Focused Fire (ATLA)

Despite the daunting task ahead of them, the mood of the Fire Nation’s punitive expedition - or those that had managed to assemble just a few days away from Ba Sing Se anyway - was high enough. While some might find the notion of capturing the princess and the Fire Lord’s brother to be distasteful, the chance to put down the insolent Scorpion and return Ba Sing Se to its rightful rulers was more than enough to keep everyone chomping at the bit. 

For newly promoted General Tseo, it was a chance to lay the first of many steps to not only earn the Fire Lord’s favor, but also win glory for both himself and his family.

He had brought his family’s heirloom, a beautifully crafted blade made generations ago by a notable swordsmith. Tseo was aware of the mocking whispers accusing the venerated weapon of being too impractical in design, of being nothing more than a decorative wall piece. Hopefully, after this, he’ll be able to dismiss such stupid rumors by taking the head of the traitorous Scorpion with it.

High General Wulong had granted Tseo’s tank divisions the honor of serving as heavy reserve, shock cavalry to hurl at the enemy once they’ve been bogged down. It was great consideration indeed, seeing that the vehicles would be taking the role usually assigned to komodo rhino cavalry. This was the chance for Tseo to prove his worth.

He dutifully organized his admittedly meager command for that distinguished role, carefully reading through the doctrines set by the War Ministry. While Tseo held the rank of general, he currently had barely enough men and vehicles to fill a brigade. It was a minor issue; the Fire Lord had graciously rewarded the most loyal noble houses the military ranks which, barring severe disgrace and dishonor, would be a hereditary title. The much vaunted Generals of the Islands, each holding dominion over one of the home islands, would become the new proof of the bond between Fire Lord and nobility.

That a majority of these new generals like Tseo barely had enough men to command at the moment was merely a nuisance. The important part was that they held the title. There was no doubt that their ranks would quickly swell through honorable service and gallant deeds. The lower classes were easy enough to inspire and attract. 

After all, if they believed the Scorpion’s honeyed lies to rise up in rebellion with him (and the deposed princess, of course), it’d be an easy enough thing to turn them over to the right side with a good show of martial prowess. The Fire Nation will restore order to the colonies, and the dumb-witted ‘rebels’ from the peasant class would see the error of their ways and join the right cause.

It’d be like the Warlord Era again, with warriors of the defeated warlords flocking to serve the first Fire Lord as he unified the islands.

Tseo and the other noble scions looked forward to the glory promised by battle. Yes, there was a chance that some of them might be horrifically wounded, or they might be returned to the home islands in urns. But was it not a warrior’s duty to die for his Fire Lord and Fire Nation? Tseo would do his best to make his death costly, of course. 

Who knows, if he showed exceptional bravery, maybe Tseo could be the one to capture the princess. And if he proved himself enough, perhaps he could petition the Fire Lord to spare his errant daughter and award her to Tseo. A former princess would have no titles or claims to leverage, but he was sure she’d be more than grateful enough to keep her life, even as a mere concubine...

And to that end, the young general (not as young as the Scorpion, but then again no mere boy should be put in such a rank) pored through texts with his peers and listened attentively to the advice of High General Wulong and other veteran commanders as they waited for the other armies. While sheer numerical superiority ensured their victory in this overblown civil war, it would be foolish to assume that fighting turncoat colonists would be the same as facing against the decrepit forces of the Earth Kingdom.

The forces of the traitor Scorpion and the misguided princess were unlike anything the Fire Nation had faced before, but the educated guesses of the sharpest minds of the War Ministry and War Council would help them adapt quickly to their foe. And for however powerful the rebel prince was, he was just one boy. The walls of Ba Sing Se are long, and there are plenty of places to hit to overwhelm and exhaust him.

It goes without saying that the supposed tactics recommended by the Scorpion through Princess Azula had been pointedly ignored. There was no good to be served from taking his poisoned words seriously. Who knows what sort of weakness the insidious boy had embedded in his suggestions?

Honing his mind against the treacherous ploys, Tseo and his fellow commanders were rudely interrupted by an unexpected report: The Scorpion had left its den and was heading over to meet them. On the face of it, it seemed a reasonable plan; hit the punitive force before its other elements could gather with it.

But the Scorpion led a meager force of barely five thousand ungrateful bastards, to face off against the assembled might of nearly twenty thousand loyal Fire Nation warriors. Tseo and his friends would have brushed it off as a suicide march, but High General Wulong and some other hardened officers had reminded everyone of what reputation the boy had built for himself.

However grave their advice was, Tseo still found it hard to fathom that four-to-one odds could possibly go to the traitor prince’s favor, especially on this large a scale.

The punitive force assembled in good order, falling into formation to greet the coming foe. Nigh-unending rows of banners fluttered proudly in the air, declaring the presence of the loyal servants of the Fire Lord. The thousands of speartips of infantry blocks glinted in the afternoon sunlight, with rows of firebenders standing quietly between them. In the flanks, the rumbling of tank squadrons competed with the growl of komodo rhino packs as they waited in hungry anticipation. 

It was a glorious sight, especially contrasted against the inferior enemy, who came in small blocks that were led by what little tanks they had. They marched through the open grasslands with an arrogance that annoyed Tseo, as if a mere five thousand traitors could stand against the Fire Nation.

Orders came from high command. Tseo relayed them through succinct barks before lowering himself into his tank, unable and unwilling to wipe the savage grin off his face.

The enemy had walked right up to them, so they’ll repay their favor and proceed to wipe them out promptly to save everyone the time.

Hundreds of tanks and komodo rhinos began to move, sweeping around to flank and surround the enemy on either side. The infantry pushed for the center as one. The rebels would have to hunker down to have any hope of surviving the coming assault. Tseo would like to see them try, just to see his tank’s treads mulch them.

Yet they did not close ranks, as common doctrine said they should. Instead, the enemy formed a diamond probably no more than four ranks deep. General Tseo found himself unable to comprehend the suicidal tactics of the enemy for several seconds, and then growled with annoyance.

“Full speed, straight towards them. If they want to die so eagerly, we’ll kindly speed things up for them.”

With brightly colored flags waving in the air and standing out even in the rising cloud of dust, the message was efficiently sent through the division, and the flank turned and accelerated almost as one. They closed in enough for Tseo to see the banners the rebels flew, the black dragon-pincered scorpion set to the fore of a golden yellow phoenix spreading its wings, itself set in a rich red background. The exiled princess had boldly adopted a new personal emblem it seems, and had proclaimed her ties with the Scorpion.

So be it. It’d make the joy of capturing her all the sweeter.

Tseo squinted through his tank’s firing port, catching as many details as he could of the enemy’s meager formation. The enemy tanks were queerly shaped, their infantry heavily armored. Interesting tidbits, but nothing more.

Where was the Scorpion?

Tseo continued peering as the closed in to about a couple hundred yards, and then he saw the first signs of enemy retaliation. Small puffs of smoke burst out seemingly from every other soldier, soaring towards the wall of tanks. The general struggled to process what the trails of smoke might be, until a naphtha pot shattered on his tank’s hull, just in front of the firing port.

He regretted gasping in surprise, as it made him taste the thick, foul smoke that now billowed into the tank. The tank skidded to a halt as Tseo and his crew began struggling to breathe. Arms flailed to find the hatches as teary eyes were closed tightly and lungs spasmed hard. Eventually, an exit was found, and Tseo clambered out with all haste.

The air outside was barely any better than within the confines of his vehicle. But at least the general could now afford to open his eyes. And he immediately wished he hadn’t.

The smog was so thick and prevalent that Tseo could barely make out the shapes of men and tanks a stone’s throw away from him. What he could see was disheartening: A whole mess of tanks stopped, some tipping over to their sides, their crew all desperately crawling out for breathable air. He thought he could hear the pained roars of komodo rhinos further back, the beasts probably smart enough to avoid entering the noxious cloud.

Fighting to regain his composure, Tseo stood on his tank in a vain hope to pierce the thick smog, and was rewarded with nothing. A void opened in the bottom of his guts as he heard nothing beyond the sounds of creaking and snapping metal, and the desperate coughing of abused lungs. His whole division, the whole flank, had been halted by the wall of smoke. The general’s martial pride suffered a great wound at that realization.

Before he could fully bemoan his fate, Tseo’s ears picked up a new sound, one that definitely came from the enemy’s side. Flashes blinked off in the distance, followed by the distinctive roar of flames. The general tried to rally his men, but wound up in a coughing fit as he accidentally gulped in more of the horrid air.

He quickly regained control of his lungs and body, and tried again. This time, he was permanently interrupted by someone landing on his head with such force that his neck snapped. General Tseo was dead well before the daggers bit into his neck, and he was spared the sight of chainmail-masked figures dropping from the sky to slaughter his men.

*****

“Poor bastards,” Suki couldn’t help saying as she began to pick up on the screams coming from the wall of noxious smoke just outside either end of the formation. With just one barrage of from the naphtha launchers, she watched a cacophonous tide of steel come to a screeching and complete stop. 

And then, after waiting for a few seconds to make sure no tanks were coming out, Xing sent in his first wave, the veterans of the 11th. Firebenders took to the skies in great bursts of fire, while spearmen and earthbenders grimly marched into the smog.

Suki saluted the brave men with all the respect she could muster. She was standing at a safe distance away, and her eyes were already tearing and her nose burning from just a faint whiff of the foul concoction. The other soldiers arrayed before her were already coughing, and some were on their knees puking their lunches out. And the men and women of the 11th were going into the cloud like it was nothing.

And then the screaming of the dying reached the lines, and Suki knew that the first wave of the Fire Lord’s forces were doomed.

“Well done, Xing,” Azula complimented from beside Suki. “What now?”

Her fiance responded with a shrug of his shoulders. “We wait for the screaming to stop, so that the enemy can catch their breath. And then we give them cause to scream again.”

Xing made it sound so easy, but then again, perhaps it was for him. After being included in their strategic meeting, and being exposed to the level of planning he presented to them, Suki finally realized just how outclassed she was against him. 

She was a warrior, with some comprehension of tactics to defeat a foe.

Xing was a strategist- no, something more than that. He not only read the enemy’s behavior, but also prepared a counter for it even before they left Ba Sing Se.

The naphtha launcher was just one of many new weapons he would bring to bear, with apparently many more in the works. Metal-clad bamboo tubes packed with a ‘charge’ of blasting jelly, and stuffed with a pouch of the infamous naphtha that was pointed at the enemy. The fuse on the other end was lit, and just like that, several hundred tubes castrated an otherwise brutal charge.

“High General Mozi.”

“Your command, Prince Xing.”

“Get me a report on the flanks. Especially in regards to the heavy cavalry.”

Mozi went to consult with his secondaries, leaving Xing and Azula standing beside one another like proud parents as they surveyed the battlefield. Suki tried not to squirm as she watched over them. After the little incident with Ty Lee, Xing had offered Suki the post of Azula’s chief bodyguard.

Of course she accepted the position, though not in the capacity of a Kyoshi Warrior. Suki wore the green battledress of her order to honor it, but the 11th’s distinctive red and black brigandine was worn on top of it. The helmet would take time getting used to, so until she got into combat, Suki kept it by her side instead of atop her head.

“Hopefully you don’t have to stop anyone else from kissing my princess,” Xing had joked. “Though if someone does, I’m sure I can rely on you to stop them.”

Unfortunately, all the praise was neutered by Azula’s own crass joke. “I suppose it’s better to keep you with me…it’s not like Ty Lee will be stopping you from trying to kiss my fiance.”

Suki fought hard to keep her embarrassment down at that remark, but Xing actually tripped from surprise, to the point that his bodyguard had to dive in to catch him. Suki didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but thankfully Azula left the teasing at that and made no further mention of it.

Not even when Suki found herself occasionally giving in to distracted…glances. The princess only gave her a quiet stare that reminded Suki of her duty, and the girls carried on as if nothing ever happened.

“The enemy center is slowing…” said princess commented with a hint of disapproval.

“They’re seeing their flanks disappear in clouds of smoke without coming out the other end. Their commanders are understandably wary of trying to march between the cloud walls.”

“Can’t we encourage them to move?” Azula asked rather petulantly.

“Not yet. We can’t have them cracking at the edges and fleeing in big chunks.”

The princess let out a heavy sigh. “So we wait.”

“So we wait,” Xing echoed with a nod. “Don’t worry, if we’re lucky, whoever’s in charge there will decide to pull back for the day.”

“How’s that a good thing?” Suki had to ask, remembering how Xing wanted a quick and decisive victory.

His grin sent a once-forgotten tingle up her spine. “Because, that means we get to play at night, where they’re encamped.”

Unfortunately, the clouds of naphtha smoke were dissipated by heavy winds shortly after, and the enemy began marching again, regardless of the sight of the fields of corpses and abandoned tanks on either side of their advance.

Mozi returned, reporting light losses to the 11th in exchange for the successful shattering of the tank formations. The komodo rhinos were fleeing, but might rally later on.

“Well, back to the main plan it is then,” Xing said nonchalantly.

Suki remembered what that plan entailed, and she looked out to the enemy ranks with genuine pity.

Xing turned to one of the junior officers with a faint smirk. “Kindly have the new haubitzen ready for use.” After the man ran off to relay the orders, the prince then turned to his fiance with an indulgent smile. “Would you like to do the honors, my princess?”

Azula absolutely preened at the attention before she gave the declaration in a clear, sharp voice. “Hans! Get the flammenwerfers!”

The 11th’s tanks began to advance, and once more Suki could only feel bad for the enemy. 

“Poor bastards.”